Arakhne Srei'yr: Guardian of the Republic
by MegnM
Summary: This is the story of Arakhne Srei'yr, my Jedi Guardian in the Ebon Hawk server for The Old Republic. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One **

**INTRODUCTION**

I, Arakhne Sreiy'r, Jedi Guardian of the Republic, will tell my story so that those who understand the Jedi in the future will not believe us to all be the same. For we each have a story, a past, a personal purpose, and a reason for joining the Jedi Order. I will tell my story so that those same people will also understand me so that my legacy will not forever be lost. I will not always be alive as I am now to redeem myself.

I was born in 3,664 BBY, in the middle of the Great Galactic War, to aristocratic beginnings on the planet Onderon, in the capital Iziz. I never knew my mother – a Force-Sensitive, possibly even a Jedi, from what I understand. She died in childbirth with me, the younger of two children. My father was a Republic pilot, and worked mainly for Onderon planetary security. After my mother died, he never ceased to blame me for her death, and thus my relationship with my father is overshadowed by ill feelings and regret.

My older brother, Xeksor, was six years old when I was born, but unlike my father, never blamed me for our mother's death. He was my only childhood companion; I never socialized with the other children in the city. We were all each other had, but our childhood was happy that way.

My brother and I were strong in the Force because of our mother, but me a little more. So when I was five and Xeksor eleven, we were sent to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, where we became younglings engaged in the basic instruction and manipulation of the Force. I never saw my father again. My brother and I maintained our close relationship throughout this training, although we did grow apart, as he was older and went through the easier training more quickly.

Our deep connections with the Force were praised, and we soon became favorites among the Jedi Masters. Yet I noticed that as I grew up, I saw my brother less and less. I heard tales of how he was doing, however – he was thriving and was a perfect student. I was extremely proud of him, and thrived in my own studies partly because of my pride to be a Srei'yr and a sister of someone so wonderful.

The year I turned eleven, the Sacking of Coruscant took place, and most of my beloved Jedi friends were killed at the Jedi Temple. I never would have survived if I had not gone to the Republic Fleet with a Jedi Master that specialized in training Jedi Guardians, a Cathar named Master Silan Kasshh. I was doing very well at my training and he wanted to get me started as a Guardian earlier than usual.

When I heard of the Sacking I cried bitterly, and Silan's face was filled with shock and despair. For hours we sat near a cantina, comforting each other. I was sure my brother was dead, but to my joy, he was fine – he had gone into space as well, and his Master let him arrive on Fleet to see me because I didn't believe that he had lived. I rushed into his arms with relief. I'll never forget that moment.

The war ended, and a fragile peace began as the Jedi settled on Tython. I began to hear tales that the Sith were secretly planning to destroy the Jedi, taking the peace to their advantage, and I was always scared for my life and for the life of the Order. However, Xeksor continued to stay strong and help me through the dark times that lured over us. Although the Treaty of Coruscant had saved the Republic, the Sith had taken a decisive and ultimate win for the destructive and terrible war.

When I was thirteen, I began to lose contact with Xeksor. He went to missions in the Outer Rim, I would not hear from him for a year or more. But I would ask around about him, and I only heard good things, which kept my spirits high. I yearned for the day that he would seek me out and we would reunite.

The year I turned fourteen, a new Padawan arrived at the Temple, three years older than me. I only met her once, when my Master, Ersitha, had to go to the Council about matters concerning a rebellion on Voss. Outside of the Council Chambers I awaited my Master's return, and the new Padawan was there for an appointment, escorted by a Jedi I'd seen before but never could remember his name. He nodded to me respectfully and asked who was talking to the Council. I told him it was my Master, and I suddenly got a cold chill. I looked at the Padawan, who the Jedi introduced as Ulida Dur'izen, a seventeen-year-old beauty with blond hair and dark eyes. She was too old to be a new Padawan – she must have had training.

Ersitha left the Council Chambers, and I went to Voss with her for diplomatic purposes. I was there for three months, and when I arrived back at Tython, disturbing rumors were spreading about Xeksor falling to the Dark Side. I didn't believe it, of course, and started searching for him. But he was always gone on missions and was never on Tython for very long. I tried contacting via mail, but the Jedi Masters started reprimanding me for doing it because of the Sith having power over much of the mail system. Tracing my letters could put me in doom.

So all I could do was wait, and finish my training.

A disturbing event took place the day before I turned fifteen. I was on Tython, outside in the cool air, training with my peers, when I got thirsty and asked the instructor for a drink of water. I hurried into the Jedi Temple because I didn't want to miss too much of my training. In the lounge, I grabbed my water and was sipping it when I overheard a conversation I'll never forget.

The Grand Master and another member of the Council, a Nautolan, were talking quietly, but loud enough for me to hear, just nearby me.

"He yelled at me," the Nautolan was saying, his face contorted, distressed. "He never stops yelling at me. Kept saying there was more to the Force than I was teaching him. He wanted to know everything – not just the Light Side, but everything."

"He never reported for Master Denicee today," the Grand Master scowled. "He loves the cantina. At least that's where he SAYS he goes at night. I don't believe him."

"Where else could he go?" the Nautolan asked, surprised.

"His breath never smells of drink, nor does he ever act like he is drunk," the Grand Master replied. "Xeksor Srei'yr is falling to the Dark Side, Master – that's all there is to it. We have to own up to the fact."

Curse red hair. It can be such a pain and made me angry so easily. My cheeks flared up in anger and I marched over to them. "NO," I said firmly. "My brother has NOT fallen to the Dark Side!"

"With all due respect, young Padawan," the Grand Master said between her teeth, "you are only a Padawan and have been gone for a long time. You don't know what is going on."

"I would know if he fell to the Dark Side," I cried. "He's my brother!"

"No, you would not know," the Grand Master replied coolly. "You are only a Padawan."

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it could fly to Tatooine, but I had nothing to say to that. I knew she was right. I was a nobody. Tears filled my eyes, and I turned away. She was right. I knew nothing. I was stupid.

"He's a young man – young men are wild at his age. I'm sure we all were at one point," the Nautolan said slowly, trying to make me feel better.

"Where is my brother now?" I demanded to know.

"Corellia, doing some work with the post-war effort with Master Yn'Mar and Master Bal," the Grand Master answered. "Half a dozen other Padawans are with them."

"I need to go too," I begged. "I have to see him."

They ignored me. "We'll just have to send someone to watch where he goes at night," the Grand Master said quietly. "If we knew, then we would understand."

"He's a GOOD PERSON!" I fairly screamed.

The Grand Master took me by the arm and led me out of the lounge, her cheeks as red as my hair. Everyone was staring at us.

"Arakhne," she said, "you are a long, long way from becoming a Jedi Knight if all you can think about is your brother. You have a whole GALAXY to think of, with trillions of inhabitants to protect. And if you are going to be a Jedi Guardian, then you have to put THAT first."

I was thoroughly distressed. "Saving one fallen Jedi is more important than helping those already saved," I said, believing in that statement from the bottom of my heart. "This is a JEDI we're talking about, not some mindless twit. And he happens to be my brother. We have to figure out what's wrong."

"We've been trying to do THAT for months, Arakhne," she snarled, letting go of my arm and spinning me away from her. "You're just not in tune to it. If YOU can find out what's wrong with your brother, then fine. But until you do, I'm going to protect innocent lives." Before I could protest, she slammed the lounge door in my face.

"Fine," I said, sucking in a breath and glaring at the door. "You save your innocents, and I'll save mine." I turned on my heel and rushed outside. I'd already wasted enough time – I had to get back to my training.

Around the same time that bad rumors began to circulate about Xeksor, even worse ones began circulating about Ulida Dur'izen. She was filled with the Dark Side, and it made the Jedi Masters very uneasy.

I still had only met her that once. But once the expedition from Corellia returned, I vowed to see my brother.

I rushed to Master Yn'Mar, an enormous Cathar, and begged to see Xeksor. He shrugged and answered, "He said he had business on the Fleet and went there with Padawan Ulida shortly after we got to the orbital station."

_Ulida, _I said, and started thinking the worst. But I didn't come to any conclusions just yet. I had to see for myself what was happening.

But time passed and I still never saw my brother. When I was sixteen, the worst rumor reached my ears – that Xeksor had taken everything he owned and left the Order, with none other than Ulida Dur'izen. It was discovered that they had had an intimate relationship that they had hid from the Jedi for years. It was also discovered that Ulida had been nothing more than an undercover Sith, working for the Emperor to destroy the Jedi secretly, just as we had feared. The Council was still in shock and could not understand how they had failed to realize it sooner, and felt failure for losing Xeksor.

For two days I didn't leave my room. Any Jedi Masters looking for me understood my sorrow and decided to let me heal in my own time. With help from Yn'Mar, a Jedi Sage, I healed and got over the news, but I still would not believe it until I had proof. "Seeing is believing" became my new motto.

I trained harder than ever, vowing to make my brother's legacy proud, even if he himself had become a Sith. I also vowed to find Ulida and destroy her for turning my brother to the Dark Side.

In the year that followed, the Jedi did not experience any Sith attacks. Whatever Ulida had been there to find out, she never found out, and the Emperor found no reason to attack Tython. Whatever reason he was looking for was hidden from him, and the Jedi continued to live in peace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**BECOMING A JEDI MASTER**

Years passed, and my training advanced. I was close, according to my masters, to achieving the level of Jedi Knight, and all were proud of me. The Grand Master and I maintained a rocky relationship however, and although I respected her for her strength in battle and her ability to keep a cool head (which I always found admirable in people), I found it hard to find the slightest amount of common sense in her head. She didn't like me right back, so our relationship, you could say, became mutually disgusting.

A disturbing civil war erupted on Naboo, a planet that the Jedi Order felt necessary to keep friendly alliance with, when I was eighteen, and the higher-level Padawans were sent there to help keep the war as civil as possible. I worked with Planetary Security, a job that reminded me of my father, which I loathed, until I started working with the Naboo's human inhabitants on diplomatic solutions. My skills in counseling and diplomacy tripled at this stage, and I became a superb negotiator. Despite this, however, war erupted after the original denizens of Naboo, the Gungans, blew up a factory belonging to the Naboo, the humans of the planet, killing hundreds of Naboo.

I will always look upon the planet of Naboo that made me grow stronger and wiser in the Force. For there, in a span of three years, I became first a Knight, and then a Master.

During the year I was eighteen, the Sith attacked the planet of Naboo, seeking to gain it for greater resources. The Jedi expressed to me and my peers that the Sith could not, under ANY circumstances, have Naboo. So I said I would risk my life to protect Naboo and ALL its inhabitants, even if the Gungans were bad negotiators and I couldn't stand them.

There was only one large battle in this war, the rest were just skirmishes and factory explosions and the like. During this battle, the Battle of Moenia, I fought bravely (with the help of a Jedi Master and two Knights,) against the Gungan warriors for the Naboo, until the Sith arrived. Two rogue Sith that had nothing to do with the Empire stepped forward and sought to kill me when my three Jedi friends were nowhere in sight. I eliminated one easily, but the other, who called himself Raytron, took some time. He was a good duelist, though had poor form.

"We knew you'd be the one to join this battle," he hissed at me as he weakened. "I know your brother."

I was shocked. "My brother?" I lowered my weapon.

"Are you not the sister of Xeksor Srei'yr? No, I know you are…I see it in your eyes." He laughed maniacally. "You're shocked that a Sith would know your brother so well? He's a Sith now, and one of the best. Ulida's got him around her little finger, even after she deserted him. He kills freely now, completely fallen to the Dark Side."

I thought he was lying until the Force told me it was true. Emotions flooded over me. "Why torment me?" I cried out. "Why do you tell me these things?"

"Because torment leads to a quick downfall!" he cackled, and swung at me. In defense, I swung to parry and knocked off his head.

Panting I knelt next to his remains. He'd been telling the truth, I knew it. All these years of denial had been for nothing. Xeksor truly was a Sith – and Ulida had deserted him once she had used him.

The battle ended in a peace treaty between the Naboo and the Gungans. The Sith were completely defeated. For my heroic actions in this battle, I became a Jedi Knight, one of the youngest.

My ascension was controversial. Some Jedi said that I became a Jedi Knight simply by a lucky end to a battle. Others said that I was too young (well, that was MOST Jedi) and some others said that I simply cared about myself too much and my brother's welfare (which I probably did, but I've always thought it was more determination than anything else).

But the age thing would haunt me forever. People would stare and gossip and mutter amongst themselves about how young I was, and it would bother me for the rest of my life.

Continuation of my training was much different as a Knight, and it took a lot of getting used to. Those who had once been my peers were now inferior to me, and so I was looked upon as someone that was just looking for attention. It annoyed me that all my hard work and dedication could be so easily overlooked. It annoyed me that my battle with Raytron and his friend meant nothing.

It just annoyed me.

Now I was in training with higher students, those who were already Knights, most of them twice my age. I felt small and out of place, and was desperate to go back to the other Padawans. For many nights in those next few months, I would not sleep – instead, I would stare out the window of my Tython quarters and seek answers in the dark.

_Why me? _

I learned the answer to that question three years later, at the age of twenty-one. My affiliations with Naboo and its peoples made me ideal for another situation that had been brewing over there – the peace treaty had failed and the Gungans were again seeking a war with the Naboo, and the Naboo were once again seeking Jedi help.

I offered my assistance to the planet. After all, I was getting quite fond of it. The Grand Master, as tense as we were around each other, acknowledged my familiarity with the planet and allowed me to go. For the rest of my life, this mission would haunt me and remind me how fragile my inner peace was at the time. Nine other Jedi were sent with me – two of them old friends of mine that had been knighted recently. Together we flew to Naboo, where to my surprise, the weather was no normal at all. It was storming, worse than any storm I had ever encountered. As our shuttle landed, I noticed that the Naboo Royal Palace was on fire.

Distressed I centered myself on the Force. We would simply have to push the Gungans away forever. They were causing too much destruction.

An older Jedi Knight, Zak-Lar, a Zabrak, was in charge of the mission, and we all turned to him for guidance. "Are we to destroy the Gungans?" one of my old friends, Jassala, asked him.

His eyes were dark with fear as we stood in the torrential rain and watched the Palace burn. "As a last resort, but it may be necessary." He drew his lightsaber and we followed suit, following him into the spaceport.

What happened next I will never forget – a revelation dawned on us the moment we were out of the rain. Lightning flashed before our eyes and five Sith Lords stood there, lightsabers drawn, as if they knew we had been coming.

The Sith Lord in the center looked familiar to me, but I could not grasp in my mind where the heck I'd seen him before.

Zak-Lar faced the foes bravely. "Why are Sith here on Naboo, in the midst of a civil war?"

The one in the center laughed at him, his teeth rotten with his Dark Side corruption. "It is no civil war that we fight here," he replied, and pranced in place a bit, obviously anxious to kill us all. "Glory to the Emperor! For he will have Naboo!"

_Well, that explains things, _I thought. _I was sure the peace treaty was a final deal. _My lightsaber hummed in my hand.

"He will have no such thing," Zak-Lar replied, and nodded at the rest of us encouragingly. I soared on the Force, letting it give me wings. I was ready.

"You might as well know our names – so that you remember who killed you," the Sith on the far right said, grinning. "I am Darth Tyher. This is Darths Jijahi, Yashka-ven, Hoven, and Falkiss." Darth Falkiss was the one that I thought looked familiar and was obviously the leader of their group. The rest looked like typical human Sith, except Yashka-ven was a female Sith Pureblood with yellow eyes.

I could tell Zak-Lar wanted to make a smart reply, but he was silent. Falkiss raised his lightsaber. "KILL THEM ALL," he bellowed.

The Sith attacked us, and I flew into the defensive stance of Soresu as Tyher dove at me. In no time I realized that these were no ordinary Sith Assassins – these were Darths, probably of the Dark Council. They were extremely powerful.

My heart sang a bittersweet song and I parried every blow, but none of the Darths would die. Jassala hurried over to help me, but I suddenly realized that things could get ugly with Tyher wielding two lightsabers. "JASSALA NO!" I cried, but I was too late, as Tyher sliced off her right arm. She screamed in pain and fell to the floor.

She wouldn't die – her heart was strong enough to live. I had to concentrate on the battle, and distract Tyher from making a final blow. I lunged at him in the acrobatic Juyo form, and he was taken aback, trying to regain the upper ground as I drove him away from the fallen Jassala.

Lightning flashed again, and I tried to reach out to the Force for a wave of adrenaline, but I couldn't. My heart froze in fear as I sliced off Tyher's head. As it rolled away, I tried to regain my senses. The other Jedi were still fighting against the remaining four Darths.

I leapt at Yashka-ven in order to protect the three Jedi that were attacking her, and she snarled at me. "You are no match for the Dark Side of the Force!" she screamed, and threw me against the wall. Stars flew around my head as I tried to regain my strength, and once I did I rushed at her, throwing my lightsaber.

The Sith ducked my blade and leapt high into the air afterwards, pushing another Knight to his stomach on the floor. She landed on his back, breaking his spine. I screamed out in denial again as the Jedi fell unconscious from the shock of her landing. I pushed Yashka-ven away from his crippled form, but she returned more powerful than ever, twirling her double-bladed lightsaber through a mass of Jedi, taking off Jedi Knight Cranner's arm.

_All right, that does it, _I thought angrily. I lunged at her, using the Force as a wave of stamina and adrenaline, and stabbed my lightsaber into her heart. She died instantly.

There were still three Sith left, and four Jedi were now fallen. Jassala and Thensand'amon were down with missing arms. Velsan, the other of my old friends, was down with a missing leg and a missing arm. Gar'stor suffered from a broken spine and was unconscious on the floor.

I leapt at the closest Sith, Jijahi, my adrenaline and strength not failing me. I would help to get all these Jedi to safety. I had to!

Jijahi was a monster of a man, nearly twice as tall as I was. But the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Even though he was able to yank my lightsaber out of my hand and throw it across the room, I was able to grab the fallen Velsan's lightsaber and finish him off, just barely. His corpse burst into flames as he died, and to his day I'm not sure why. He must have been part cybernetic and had short-circuited somehow.

Hoven and Falkiss were all that remained, and as Jijahi burst into flames, Hoven pushed Jedi Knight Berstar into the fire, burning him. Berstar was able to run into the rain to kill the flames, but he was a charred body lying on the landing pad afterwards. The Force trembled within me as I watched him burn, and my heart began to grow tight and exhausted. I didn't know if I could go on, but I had to. There were still five Jedi standing and only two Sith. We could do it!

Hoven and Falkiss stepped away from us to take a breather while I went to stand next to Zak-Lar, who was holding his side, panting. His hand was covered in blood, and my own blood roared in my ears. I was NOT going to let these Sith kill all of my friends with a single swoop!

"You may be five and we may only be two," Falkiss hissed at Zak-Lar, "but we have the power of thrice your number."

"Then let's finish this," Zak-Lar said angrily, twirling his lightsaber. "Come at me."

The other Jedi next to me, Klarsonn, fell into Shien form, while the other two Jedi remaining, Oarsov and Niana, approached the Sith from behind.

Falkiss smirked at us all, and spun around to face Oarsov and Niana. With a single wave of his hand, he attacked the Jedi with a psychic attack, leaving then vulnerable and stunned. I dove into action, gunning for Falkiss, as Hoven's massive armored arm swung at Oarsov and Niana, knocking them unconscious.

I landed on Falkiss and he spun me away from the group like we were performing a deadly dance. I leapt over Gar'stor's fallen body, unable to pay any attention to his condition. I had to kill Falkiss.

"I know your face," the Sith hissed at me. Ah, so he knew me too. I wasn't hallucinating.

"How?" I asked simply, parrying an underhand attack.

"You're Xeksor's impudent sister," he grinned, and in my shock I was frozen. He used that advantage to swing at me, but missed as my leg came up and kneed him in the crotch. He screamed in pain and an arm flew up to hit me across the face. I flew away from him.

"You little bitch," he snarled at me. "You Jedi scum." He jumped at me and my lightsaber came up to meet his. I still could barely move in my shock. _He knows me! He knows my face! But how?! _"So how do you know I'm Xeksor's sister?" I snarled right back, pushing him up off me by using the Force for strength.

I heard a cry of pain rise up in the hangar, and I turned to see Klarsonn on the ground, holding his wrist and legs, which were bent grotesquely, obviously broken. Hoven leapt to make the final blow but Zak-Lar stopped him. I couldn't look to see what happened – my attention was back on Falkiss…

…And suddenly it dawned on me. I'd never seen him before, but I know where I'd seen one that looked like him.

Genetics is a funny thing.

He looked just like Ulida.

"You're Ulida's father," I breathed, the Force swelling. The way his face twisted confirmed my fears.

"So you remember my daughter," he said, and swung his lightsaber again, aiming for my head. I ducked and my leg went up as I ducked, tripping him. He fell to the ground with a huge thud, and the sound I dreaded to hear filled the room.

The final cry of pain.

Zak-Lar!

"NO!" I screamed, looking up, giving Falkiss enough time to get back on his feet, but weak enough to kill easily. Zak-Lar was huddling on the floor in a fetal position, bruised, bloody, and broken. Hoven wasn't paying any attention to me as he hovered over his opponent, lightsaber ready for the final blow.

That moment would haunt me forever. It was a millisecond of choice – to secure a kill on Falkiss or to save Zak-Lar's life. I didn't have any time to hesitate; I jumped at Hoven, sticking my lightsaber into his neck, and we crashed to the ground together.

I somersaulted away and looked up to Falkiss, who was regaining his strength. Nine broken, though living, Jedi sprawled across the hangar, and four dead Sith joined them on the same floor. It was just me and Falkiss, Ulida's father, left.

"You will not stop the Emperor from securing Naboo as his own," Falkiss hissed, fear leaping into his eyes at the sight of his many dead friends. "There are many more of us. You cannot kill just four and save the Republic!"

"We'll see," I replied, battle-ready again, my legs spread apart. He leapt at me again for the final act of our little ballet. I hadn't been completely ready for him, I guess, for he forced me to the ground and landed on my right arm, pinning Velsan's lightsaber down.

I screamed at the _crack _sound of a breaking bone, and pain flew up my arm and into my mouth. I couldn't move Velsan's lightsaber to defend myself. He stepped off my crippled body and poised his lightsaber above my breasts.

But I was not to be defeated there. With my last molecule of that wave of strength, I used the Force to bring Jassala's lightsaber to me, and ignited its violet blade, swinging it through Falkiss' left leg, and he toppled off of me in pain.

Without thinking, (I should have thought about this I think, but I was in pain and the Force felt so far away) I staggered to my feet and forced Jassala's lightsaber through his heart. "Tell Ulida I send my condolences," I muttered as he died, and then I sank to the ground in relief. They were all dead.

For two whole minutes I sat there, unmoving, the pain in my arm amazing. But I knew that while they were alive, I had to get the crippled and wounded Jedi to safety. But I probably could never do it all alone. I rushed to Oarsov and Niana and used a Force healing technique to bring them out of unconsciousness. Then I rushed to Berstar, who I was the most worried about, as Niana and Oarsov helped get Zak-Lar and Jassala to their feet. He was still alive, to my amazement. He must have been using the Force to keep himself alive.

"You're going to be okay," I soothed to him, wincing at the look of him. He was burned so badly; half of his face was gone while the rest of his body was charred. I called to Niana, a Jedi Sage, and told her to stay with him and make him her top priority. Then I rushed off to find spaceport security.

There was none. In anger I screamed, and then went back to the hangar. Our shuttle was still there, of course, but Zak-Lar himself had driven us. "OARSOV!" I called to him. "CANYOU FLY A SHUTTLE?!"

"YEAH," he yelled back, helping Klarsonn to his feet. "LET'S GET THEM INSIDE."

Niana had Berstar and was helping him into the shuttle. Oarsov helped Klarsonn into the shuttle. I ran to Velsan, who was a thin thing, but I'd still have to carry him, even with a broken arm. I winced at the thought, but his need was greater than mine. I had to help.

"I can make it if I lean on you, Ara," he whimpered in pain.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. "Here, get on my back." As we were trying to figure out how to do that, a gunshot was heard, and a cry rang throughout the hangar. Niana fell on the landing pad, clutching her leg as six Imperial soldiers rushed into the hangar. No matter what, we couldn't let them kill the fallen Jedi. I lowered Velsan back down on the floor and rushed into the melee with Oarsov, killing them all successfully, even if I had a broken arm.

"We have to hurry," Oarsov muttered. He ran to Jassala and I went back to Velsan, getting him onto my back successfully. Then I rushed to Zak-Lar, who was stumbling to his feet. He was by far the bloodiest of them all. "Help," he whimpered to me.

I said to Velsan, "Hold onto me with the Force. Let it give you strength, just for a minute." Then I took Zak-Lar into my arms and leaned heavily on the Force to carry him to the shuttle with Velsan on my back. The amount of blood was staggering, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

On the way up the ramp I told Niana to climb on my back, and she climbed so that half of her body was dangling on me while she hopped with her one good leg.

While this was all happening I was too preoccupied to think about the horrors I had witnessed – it would not be until much later, once I as safely on Tython, that I would relive these moments in nightmares.

Niana, Zak-Lar, Velsan, and Berstar were safely aboard the shuttle. Oarsov had Jassala in his arms. I rushed to get Gar'stor, who was still unconscious, and Oarsov helped me carry him to the shuttle, very carefully so not to shatter his back. The poor man was probably crippled for life with that spine. After that, the only one left on the floor was Cranner, and I rushed to him.

"I'm okay," he said, his eyes bright with fever as he looked at me. I clutched his hand and hoped he was right. He continued, "You saved us, Ara. You saved all of us…especially me…that Sith…she would have killed me…" He coughed up blood.

"Enough," I said harshly, ignoring what he said. I was nothing like a hero. "You're going to be all right. Let's get you home."

When all ten of us were settled in the shuttle, as comfortable as we could be, Oarsov grabbed the controls and we escaped Naboo, with no further problems. We later learned that the Royal Palace had been lit by the Imperials, and the Naboo and the Gungans, working together, would successfully drive the Empire away from their planet forever.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three **

**ASCENSION**

The shuttle ride back to Tython took a couple hours. Berstar was in the worst shape of us all, delirious and beyond help that I and Oarsov, a Jedi Guardian and a Jedi Sentinel, could give. I used the Force to soothe his burns, but as for healing his delirium, I was at a loss. Velsan was also in terrible shape, with his missing arm and leg, he was bleeding a lot. Oarsov was too busy piloting to tend to the eight wounded, so that job was left to me. I used the Force to slow Velsan's bleeding and surveyed the others. Jessala was crying and had a fever, but her heart was strong. She'd be okay, though she was still bleeding a lot too.

I was too caught up in my duties to even care about myself, with my broken arm and all. _I can't imagine how a Sage does it,_ I thought to myself as I ran to Klarsonn. His broken legs looked swollen and awful, but he said that he felt okay outside of the pain.

Good, because I didn't know what I'd do otherwise.

Zak-Lar was better than I thought he'd be. He stayed awake the whole time, though his eyes were glazed over in exhaustion. I gave him a few encouraging words and he smiled at me gratefully.

"You'll go far," he murmured to me before he fell asleep.

Niana was all right, but looking green and feverish. She was a Sage, and obviously had healed her own leg, but she was much too weak to do otherwise. She was sleeping against the wall of the shuttle.

Gar'stor was still unconscious, but alive. I stayed near him the entire ride back home, smoothing his hair away from his eyes. He and Berstar were the two I was the most worried about. I held Berstar's hand as he trembled in fever nearby, the left side of his face completely burned away.

I was living in a nightmare.

"Ara," a voice weakly called to me. I jumped away from Gar'stor and went to Cranner, who was looking expectantly at me, his fever making him shiver.

"Hush," I said to him, and grabbed his clammy hands. "You're going to be all right. We'll be at Tython soon."

"I might not make it," he coughed. Blood spurted out of his mouth. "I feel…bad…I'm not in as bad shape as…Berstar…" He coughed again. "But I feel dead…"

"You're going to be fine," I said, almost angrily. We did NOT do that mission just to fail. "Hold on, Cranner." I squeezed his hand encouragingly and heard the shuttle land at the Tython Orbital Station. Thank heaven Oarsov got us there safely.

Oarsov poked his head out of the cockpit. "We okay?" he asked. "We're at Tython."

"As okay as we'll ever be," I muttered, and went back to Berstar. "He needs immediate care."

"They all do," Oarsov murmured. "You're a strong woman, Ara. Keep that strength for just a little while longer."

I shivered. Berstar looked so terrible.

A crew rushed into the shuttle and I fell against the wall. People. At last. I never thought the nightmare would be over. I started to sob with relief and clung to Berstar and Gar'stor. "Take care of them," I stammered.

I felt someone grab my waist and pull me away from the other Knights gently. I heard an intercom buzzing in my ear speaking about something that dealt with medical assistance.

I was helped off the shuttle and saw Oarsov talking to a doctor, and I saw eight gurneys and the world started to spin.

"Hey take it easy," someone said to me. "Let's get you on a gurney." They strapped me in and prepared to take me down to the planet. I felt so dizzy all of a sudden.

_Berstar…Gar'stor…please live…_ I thought, and then I blacked out.

I slept for two days. The entire Temple was buzzing with reports of the battle from which I had returned. When I awoke in my room, there were two Jedi Masters nearby me, talking in whispers. I immediately asked after the others.

"Berstar? Gar'stor? How are they?" I tried to sit up but a terrible pain shot up my right side and I fell back down, shocked.

"Easy," they said to me. One was a Sage, the other looked to be a Shadow. "Your arm is still broken. You need to keep ice on it and let it heal."

"But the others," I insisted, not caring about myself. "How are they?"

"They're fine," the Sage answered. "Gar'stor woke up and they did what surgery they could, but he'll never walk again. But although he is still healing, his mind is awake and good. He will live just fine."

"And Berstar?" I asked. "The others! Tell me how they are!"

"Oarsov of course is fine," the Shadow reported. "Jessala is fine and will be fitted for a cybernetic arm tomorrow. Velsan…"

Suddenly I was curious how long I'd slept. "Two days," the Sage answered, smiling as he ran a hand through his hair. "We weren't going to try and wake you. You did some heroic things over there."

I ignored the last comment. I was only trying to help. As long as everyone lived, I was okay. "Velsan?" I inquired.

"Everyone is fine," they soothed me. "Berstar had cybernetic surgery as soon as you arrived. Got a few implants and a new lung and kidney. Velsan's going to be okay – he also had cybernetic surgery, but this morning. Niana is healing fine, though she says it still hurts to walk."

"Cranner? Zak-Lar?"

"Cranner will also be fitted for a cybernetic arm. And broken bones are nothing to worry about," the Sage smiled. "Zak-Lar are fine and in recuperation. Same as Klarsonn."

I leaned back heavily into my pillows, feeling tears of relief. They were going to be all right! All of them! Nightmarish memories of the horrific battle swarmed into my head, and a few tears ran down my cheeks.

The Consulars noticed my tears. "We'll leave you in peace," they said, and left as silently as ghosts. As soon as they were gone, I burst into tears. It had been awful – nothing in my training had ever prepared me for something so horrible, so dark. That battle was like a headache that would never go away – even worse, it was like a dream that you could never shake yourself out of. It hurt to even think about it, but that was all I could do. My arm hurt, my head hurt, and my heart hurt.

I cried and cried.

I was greatly comforted knowing that the others had lived – all of them. Even Berstar! But the image of Yeshka-ven's horrible Pureblood face couldn't leave my head. From that day on I would have a fear of Sith Purebloods.

And Falkiss – he had been Ulida's father! The revelation stunned me. And now that he was dead, and at my own hands nonetheless, then I was surely in a lot of trouble. Ulida would no doubt seek me out and try to kill me.

I could just see her pretty little face, her manicured nails leaping at my throat. "YOU KILLED MY FATHER!" she would scream. "PREPARE TO DIE!"

I screamed and shot up, blinking and looking around. It was just a dream. I was still in my bed, and it was a few hours before midnight. I'd been asleep for hours.

But it had seemed so real…I fell asleep again and continued to have nightmares for hours. I would wake up and cry, then fall asleep again in exhaustion, then wake up again. Every time I woke up I was alone, though food was always brought to me. I would eat it and then fall back asleep, and wake up crying all over again. It was terrible. All I could see was Berstar running, burning, to the torrential rain and losing half his face, as Yeshka-ven's face swarmed into my view, and Jijahi erupting into flames…I shot up out of that nightmare.

I wrapped an ice pack around my arm. What day was it? I poked my head outside of my room and walked around. It felt good to breathe Temple air again. One probably could not understand this until they have been in my shoes.

"Arakhne!" someone called from behind me. I whirled around and saw a Nautolan Jedi Master (I NEVER could remember his name. Always so bad with names) walking quickly towards me.

"Master," I said, genuflecting a little. I couldn't bow – my back hurt. Hoped he understood.

"Arakhne, it's good that you're awake," he said smilingly. "The Council would like to see you. Please, this way." He started leading me the other way.

"Wait," I cried, fairly running to catch up with him, cradling my arm against my breast. "How many days has it been since we arrived on Tython?"

"Almost two weeks," the Nautolan said cheerily. I wiped the tears off my face, astounded. Two WEEKS? Two weeks of nightmares and crying and eating. Time flew by. They were two weeks I could have used to do other things, and I had wasted them, crying like a baby. I was humiliated.

The monstrous Council Chamber's doors greeted us with what I always called their "stern encouragement". They just had that look to them. The Nautolan opened up the doors and ushered me in alone. I didn't want him to leave me – I was dizzy and thought I would faint – but he left me anyway and closed the doors behind me.

Well. Helpful.

The Council was seated together – all of them. That was a rare treat, when they were all on Tython. I went to stand in the center of their semicircle, trying to make it look like my arm wasn't killing me.

"I hope you haven't all been waiting for me for two weeks," I quipped, and some smiled. The Grand Master, however, kept a very stern face. I wasn't surprised. She never liked to see my face anyway.

"Arakhne, we won't keep you long," she said. "You probably want to go back to bed soon with that arm as swollen as it is."

And THANK you, Master Satele Shan, for making me even more uncomfortable than I already was. "It's not as bad as it looks," I said as happily as I could muster.

"How do you feel?" Master Kiwiiks, a Togruta, asked gently.

No point in lying to her. I liked her. "Tired," I admitted. "But okay otherwise."

"In the past two weeks, your nine counterparts in this terrible battle have relayed to us what happened," Satele said slowly. "Oarsov and Niana mostly. They told us of your great heroism during the battle. We wanted to thank you for it."

I nodded. I really didn't think I acted in any spectacular way other than great reflexes. "Thank you," I managed.

"Everyone is perfectly fine now, except Cranner, who has seemed to take losing his arm pretty hard," Kiwiiks reported. "Nevertheless, he's doing okay."

I remembered how Cranner thought he was going to die. "I'm glad he's doing well," I said truthfully. The poor man didn't deserve what he got. None of us deserved what we got.

Poor Berstar.

Satele stood and approached me. "All of your counterparts, however, are greatly impressed with how you saved them all. You even saved Oarsov, even if he got little less than a psychic attack."

My mind whirled with memories of the fight. "I was just trying to keep everyone alive," I murmured.

"And that's exactly what a true Jedi puts first," another Master said, his eyes glowing with pride. "You handled yourself beautifully, Arakhne. And even on the shuttle ride home, you cared nothing about your own injuries."

I remembered. "I didn't feel the pain I guess," I said. "But your praise and pride for me are greatly appreciated." I was ready to go to sleep.

"Wait a moment, Arakhne," Satele said, obviously sensing my desire to go. "We have more to say to you."

Another Jedi Master nodded, a smile on his lips. "All nine…and let me repeat – all nine…of your counterparts suggested to us that we make you a Jedi Master, Arakhne. You would be the youngest in the Order…but from what we have heard – you deserve it."

The news was astounding. "A Jedi Master?" I asked.

"I did not agree with this decision," Satele said promptly. _Well, of course you didn't, _I thought. _I'm me! _"You're far too young."

"However, even great Masters such as Master Satele need to remember that age is not the only thing we base judgment on," the first male Jedi Master said, smiling too. "It's just the first."

"You were remarkably brave," Master Kiwiiks said. "Your trials are over. It is because that all nine of them lived that we offer this great honor to you. You put the Jedi first, the lives of those in danger, above yourself. And for that, we are truly grateful, and honored by you."

My mind swirled. Me! A Jedi Master! I bowed shakily, barely able to think straight. "This…this is indeed the greatest honor I have been offered," I stammered. "Thank you."

"Besides Master Satele," Kiwiiks said, smiling, "the Council is unanimous in its decisions to grant you this honor. And Gar'stor will also be granted the rank as well. We have reviewed his standing with the Jedi and are pleased with his strength as he presses onward in this difficult new chapter of his life. But you will be first, as he is still recuperating."

"He deserves it far more than me," I said quickly, feeling uncomfortable. I didn't want the attention that this was going to give me. I didn't want the honor, even though it was so great. I didn't want to be viewed as someone that had gone through everything out of the sake of pride, wanting to please the Masters of the Council out of arrogance. I didn't want them to think I was like that. "He is twice my age."

"And like I said," the smiling first male Master said, "age is nothing to us. You have done us proud."

I bowed, feeling dizzy again. I could tell that Master Satele was livid with disapproval, but I couldn't do anything about it. The Council had spoken.

"As soon as you are healed the ceremony will take place," Master Kiwiiks said, her eyes alight with excitement. "Now go rest, Arakhne."

I stumbled out of the Council Chambers, shocked. My nine Jedi companions had all – ALL – gone forth and spoken in approval of my ascension. Even Zak-Lar! I was beyond shocked – I was terrified. My standards would be upped tremendously, and the expectations even more. I shivered in fear at the thought.

What would the Council do to me? What would they make me do?

I went back into my room, Cranner's face swarming before my eyes. "You saved all of us, Ara. Especially me." I shook my head and looked in my mirror. My green eyes stared back at me – the eyes of a Jedi Master.

"Well, Ara," I said to my reflection. "Good job." Then the pain in my arm caught up to me, and I let a couple tears fall.


End file.
